


jeroazu week 2017

by dragonsHourglass



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, shrugging noises
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9687668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsHourglass/pseuds/dragonsHourglass
Summary: a series of (v short) drabbles based on the prompts for jeroazu week 2017





	1. day 1: flowers

**Author's Note:**

> this is like the first thing ive posted here since like 2015

_ He’s beautiful. _

Inigo shied from Gerome’s gaze, despite the mask that obscured his loving eyes. The thin white fabric of his dancer’s garb fluttered delicately with every little breeze, and the gold of the cuffs on his wrists and ankles shone delicately in harmony with his soft, silvery hair in the moonlight. Against the background of dark trees and glittering galaxies, the young man looked nearly ethereal.

Gerome hadn't known that, on this night, the boy before him would dress up like this – the image of grace and humility where during the day there was naught but misplaced desire and emotional fragility.

Minerva must have caught Gerome’s breathlessness, as a nudge to his shoulder brought him to the embarrassing realization that he had been staring.

Inigo shuffled in self-consciousness, his bare feet in a bed of small, white flowers. He said nothing, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking a delicate pose to indicate he was going to begin to dance.

Still awestruck from the surprise of bringing Minerva to her nightly audience of watching Inigo practice his dancing only to find the dancer bathed in a beauty Gerome had never seen before, he leaned against a nearby tree, and placed a gloved hand on Minerva’s back, as she had settled right beside him.

The dance being rehearsed that night was one they had seen a few times before, but neither wyvern nor rider seemed any less interested in the performance because of it. They were also undeterred by any errors or missteps or moments in which Inigo had to adjust his posture or his costume.

Minerva sighed contentedly from Gerome’s side, and he lent her the small, but loving smile he would give only her.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before Inigo called his practice to an end – but Gerome knew well by now that that eternity was one he could experience over and again. An eternity in which the flow of Inigo’s movements and the elegant flutter of the ribbons and cloth attached to his hips and the serene expression on his half-lidded eyes and on his barely parted lips —

The two were then approaching each other and Gerome thought to himself that never before had he seen so much resemblance between Inigo and his mother than in that moment. He was flushed pink, from both exercise and embarrassment (it seemed he had just remembered his chest was mostly bare), he averted eye contact, and he began to talk in what could've been described as a messy waterfall of an explanation.

“– I needed to practice with this on, —” a gesture towards the outfit, “— I didn't know if you'd be watching tonight, so, sorry – I know it's kind of distracting, and I don't really know how to dance properly in it yet – I hope Minerva didn't mind –”

A firm hand on his shoulder shut him up quick, but Gerome couldn't make himself say anything, despite the variations of ‘ _ you're beautiful _ ’ swirling about his head, trying to come out.

They stood in awkward silence until the tension became too overwhelming and Gerome felt his face heat up and, caught up in the moment, he knelt to the flower bed below, and plucked a blossom from its companions. He straightened, and placed the flower gently behind Inigo’s ear.

The look of surprise on Inigo’s face froze Gerome, who had become all too aware of what he had just done. He swallowed.

And he turned, and disappeared into the trees with Minerva behind him, leaving Inigo standing amongst a bed of flowers in the moonlight.


	2. day 2: sweets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao this one was a stretch

It was hard, living in wartime. But the future’s children had never really known anything else.

They had grown up seeing battle and blood, and loss was nothing any of them hadn’t experienced.

But not only does war take from people, it changes them beyond any form of recognition.

Once upon a time, Inigo and Gerome were much more alike – which, perhaps, was why their relationship had evolved as it did.

The two of them had been good friends as children, but they had drifted apart with age and as Inigo forced himself into a more outgoing nature and Gerome retreated further into himself and his shyness. 

It wasn’t until it had come time for Naga to grant them the chance to travel back and alter the flow of fate that they acknowledged the spark of a bond that was left between them. 

They had fought. They had argued about the merits of traveling time but something inside Gerome knew all along that his argument was fruitless. 

But none of that mattered now. They had had many arguments since then. But still they had grown closer again. 

There was nothing Gerome had grown to love more than the nights where the masks would come off – not just the one he himself wore daily to protect himself from anyone or anything that may cause him to feel too much, but the one Inigo wore in the form of his smiles and and pick-up-lines, as well. 

On those nights the two had formed a habit of sharing sweet kisses now and again. Sometimes, much to Gerome’s subtle amusement, the kisses were sweet in a bit of a literal sense. 

Gerome had never really liked sweets all too much, but Inigo always had had a sweet tooth. Sweets had become hard to come by in the future, so it was no wonder he bought himself something nearly every time he went into town.

Gerome had to admit that he didn't mind the taste of pastries or candies so much if they were left lingering on Inigo's tongue. 

But sweet literally or otherwise, their kisses were proof of their growth – as humans rather than as warriors and as a pair with a strong bond rather than two boys who had lost everything.

They were a reminder to each other that, despite all they had been through, they were okay.


	3. day 3: going out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i ever have consistent writing. anyway heres some modern au

Inigo waited patiently on the porch of an unfamiliar house, heart hammering in his chest, the echo oh the doorbell ringing in his ears. His world had been one of firsts as of late – he had successfully performed in front of an (admittedly small) audience, he found himself struggling with conflicting feelings regarding one of his male friends, and now, he waited for that same friend to greet him so they could be in their way to what Inigo supposed would be a date.

When the door finally opened, Inigo was met with, not Gerome, but a kind-looking, middle-aged woman with bright, pink hair and a large, creepy reptile perched on her shoulders.

“You must be Inigo,” she smiled enigmatically, her voice melodic and gentle. “I'm Cherche,” she held a hand or for him to shake. The lizard wobbled with the movement, staring at Inigo. “Gerome’s mother. I've heard a lot about you from him!”

“ _ Mother _ ,” came a disgruntled voice, and Inigo looked past the woman to see the very boy he'd been waiting for, who was looking rather embarrassed himself.

Cherche laughed, and stepped back to allow her son out the door. Just before he pulled it closed after stepping outside, Gerome patted the lizard gently while whispering a soft “ _ bye, Minerva _ ” simultaneous to a “have fun, boys!” courtesy of his mom.

“Hey,” Inigo offered in greeting once the two of them stood alone on Gerome's porch. Gerome just grunted in reply, and looked to the small, silver car parked in front of the lawn.

“That yours?”

“Well, my mom’s, actually, but…” Inigo trailed off. He'd only recently gotten his license, and he was still a little nervous about driving. But it was much more impressive to drive your date  _ to _ your date than to have to figure out bussing situations or to have your  _ mom _ drive you, he figured.

Once in the car, the two were met with an awkward silence, with the exception of the quiet pop music playing softly from the speakers.

“Your mom seems cool,” Inigo remarked, recalling the vibrant hair, soothing voice, and pet lizard so casually atop her shoulders

“Yeah,” Gerome said noncommittally, staring out the window and watching the surroundings go by.

Inigo had already known that Gerome wasn't much of a conversationalist, so he'd already accepted that he would be the one steering the talk that evening.

“What's your dad like?” he tried again.

“Quiet.”

Inigo frowned inwardly, unsure how to continue from there. Nervous energy filled the car, not just from Inigo, but undoubtedly from Gerome, as well.

The two had fooled around with what would eventually become a relationship before, but this was their first official date. This marked something definite between them. (And now that Inigo had met one of Gerome's parents, that only solidified what they had going.)

They were just pulling into the parking lot of the café one of Inigo’s friends had recommended as a date spot when the perfect conversation topic struck him.

He had seen Gerome get excited before, and while Gerome's version of  _ excited _ was expressed far differently than Inigo’s, it was the best he had seen him. That look in his eyes was what Inigo knew he was falling for.

“So, uh. On your mom's shoulders – that was Minerva?”

Inigo had, of course, heard about Gerome's beloved pet iguana before, but he had never seen one before, and was therefore thrown off at seeing the creature in person (Inigo’s idea of the perfect pet was something more akin to a dog, or maybe a cat).

However subtle, Inigo noted that Gerome's face had lit up.

“Yes. She's beautiful, isn't she? I told you she is. My mother and I have knit sweaters for her, and she's the _ cutest _ in them. I –” Gerome cut himself off, flushing upon realization of his uncharacteristic enthusiasm (enthusiasm for Gerome looked more like someone merely speaking to someone else about something they had a positive opinion about, but it was enthusiasm nonetheless).

Inigo just grinned, and made to exit the car. “Do you have pictures? Show me once we're inside!”

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i cant write anymore but i have to try now bc i love these two


End file.
